Lines Are Made To Be Crossed
by XXIV
Summary: Daniel is very firm on where he and Jack stand. It, however, doesn't matter. Rated T to be safe.


**Disclaimer: **I do not own "Now You See Me" or the characters. No profit is being made, obviously.

**(A/N): **So, normally I probably would not jump into a fandom and write something so sporadic for it but I was itching to write and I had realized that there was a very tiny fandom in existance for this movie. I expected there to be only about three fictions, to be honest. Anyway, the solid point is that I kind of like the idea of Jack and Daniel. I don't know if I will write any more for this fandom or if this will be continued. It can be considered a drabble or a one-shot; we'll see. Also, I apologize for any typos.

* * *

There is a line in every friendship that should never be crossed. Someone should probably condition Jack more aggressively on the matter because he clearly has no idea that a line even exists, at least not when it comes to Daniel.

It has been addressed, indeed it has. Several times. If Daniel could be bothered to keep track at all, he is absolutely certain that he would have ventured into double digits by now. It has begun to reach a point where it is part of a daily routine, vastly approaching a new reality where Daniel can do nothing more than ignore it, which would be simple if it did not provoke Jack to get more aggressive once he picked up on Daniel's strategy.

The problem, which is probably worth specifying, is not necessarily Jack's methods so much as it is the advancements all together. Daniel often has been left to wonder if the man even acknowledges the fact that Daniel's interest is not even the tiniest bit mutual, which he has even stated bluntly. Infuriatingly, all he got was a small smirk, a shrug, and peace for the remainder of the day and then Jack would approach him again, always in a different way, trying to achieve the same goal.

Jack was attracted to Daniel. It was blatantly written across his face on some days where he could be seen looking Daniel over, sometimes not even realizing he was doing it to begin with; the poor bastard.

Merritt, ever the aggravatingly witty and acute man that he was, was quick to jump on them both, drawing attention to the looks with lewd gestures or even more awkward comments that amused Henley more than anyone else, quite often sending her off in a fit of giggles whilst Jack chuckled noncommittally off to the side. Daniel was quite alone in his standing and it seemed that standing up for himself in any way was somehow more amusing.

So Daniel did the only thing that he could think to do—he took the problem and molded it around himself as though it were essential that he adapt.

After all, one of the best tricks a magician has is his surroundings. Learning to manipulate it, mold it; twist it to create the illusion desired. But really, Daniel just didn't want to deal with the fact that everyone other than himself seemed to be ready for a gay crisis that was _not_ about to happen.

And it worked for a while, too. Daniel had successfully found a way to handle the situation and was used to everything that came along with said 'handling'.

That was until Jack decided, yet again, that it was time to up his game. Whilst it had been anticipated, Daniel hadn't really expected something so _forward_.

Well, not a tongue in his mouth, anyway.

There had been absolutely no time to prepare for it, or at the very best it had come with _minimal_ warning. Or it would not be entirely obtuse of one to suggest that Daniel may have had one too many drinks and his window of escape had literally warped out of sight right before his eyes.

Daniel was at the mini-bar, pouring himself another drink, thinking bitterly about how Merritt seemed to know exactly how to get a smile out of Henley, even if his perverseness was a bit much at times. The fact of the matter was that Merritt _could_ and Daniel could not and it was infuriating.

The thoughts circled around Daniel's head, so loud, and taking up the majority of his attention with so little effort that he actually did not hear Jack at first. It took a few tries but eventually Jack's voice cut in and Daniel turned around, his glass almost having reached his lips. Jack was taking off his jacket and asking where everyone was—_everyone_ meaning Merritt and Henley, of course.

Shrugging and feigning indifference, Daniel took a sip of his drink and answered, "It's just me. Sorry to disappoint."

One might wonder, especially Daniel later on, if that last comment had really been him fishing for some kind of reassurance that he wasn't a disappointment. It was a cheap shot, in a way considering Daniel was _very_ aware of Jack and how he felt and he knew that if he wanted to find any kind of reassurance, Jack was the best choice when it came to pulling some kind of guilt trip or if he was fishing for a little comfort through the haze of what was promising to be a little too much alcohol.

"Did you say something?" Daniel mumbled, realizing then that Jack's lips were moving and that he was pretty close.

_Well, _Daniel thought_, I think I'm drunk._

"I said," Jack purred in a way that sent Daniel's mind on red alert, albeit very delayed, "I doubt that you're capable of disappointing me."

Daniel blinked and rolled his eyes at the obvious comment before he felt Jack pulling his half empty glass from his hand and setting it off to the side. Daniel followed the action before he turned his head back toward Jack to complain and tell him how and where he should go fuck himself.

The trouble was, he never had a chance. The words were muffled against his lips as Jack pressed up against him and kissed him lightly, ultimately succeeding in silencing him. He pulled back a little, eyes fixed on Daniel's lips and the look on his face was one unlike Daniel had ever imagined would be there if things got to this. It was literally like he was the center of everything and it was a loud feeling.

It was like being on stage, a spotlight only on him.

Jack stepped closer, his hands coming up to rest on Daniel's hips, guiding him back until his lower back was pressed against the table behind him, their lips meeting once more. Mind hazed, motor skills delayed, body melting; Daniel's mind was still on red alert, telling him that he should put an end to the situation immediately.

But he didn't listen, did not heed the warnings. It was a blurry noise in the back of his head speaking nonsense. The rough reality about alcohol was that there was always a guarantee that there would be trouble to deal with later. And as slightly cold fingertips peaked beneath the hem of his shirt, Daniel had a feeling that tomorrow's headache would make sure to make him question whether or not it was worth it.

For now however, _tomorrow_ too was a blurry noise in the back of his head and Jack seemed to be the only thing that was clear.


End file.
